


Acknowledgement

by Ainyan42



Series: Kal'istae, Imperial Ghost [4]
Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic (Video Game)
Genre: Confused Kali is Confused, Damn the Empire, Does She Have to Question EVERYTHING?, F/M, Introspection, Romance, Theron is Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-04
Updated: 2020-04-04
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:01:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23470600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ainyan42/pseuds/Ainyan42
Summary: Arcann has been vanquished, and in the aftermath, Kali and Theron face a few more truths - and treat a few wounds inside and and out.
Relationships: Female Imperial Agent | Cipher Nine/Theron Shan
Series: Kal'istae, Imperial Ghost [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1620928
Kudos: 5





	1. Kal'istae

Arcann was finished. Not dead, and Kal’istae knew she might yet live to regret that decision - but if Senya kept her word, the former Emperor would no longer be a threat to her or to the galaxy, and that was what was most important. Loss of the Knight cut deep; the older woman’s sensible advice and occasional lapses into “surrogate mom” would be sorely missed. However, Kali thought as she limped through the door to her rooms, she had to trust that Senya knew what she was doing when she’d asked to be given a chance to redeem her son.

As she hopped from one foot to the other to peel off her boots, she firmly steered her mind away from her fallen enemy. What was done was done, and there were more important things to concern herself with than Arcann; although the immediate threat was silenced, she couldn’t forget that Arcann’s sister remained at large, and there was no doubt in her mind that once Vaylin got her feet under her, Valkorion’s daughter would pick up right where her brother had left off.

Still, she mused as she stripped off her dirty, battered clothing, leaving a trail following her from the sitting room to the bedroom and on to the refresher, it would be some time before Vaylin managed to gain control of the Throne and the Fleet, and that would give the Alliance a bit of time to breathe. Already, she knew, Lana and Theron were seeding the Holonet with the information that Arcann still lived and was out there - that should muddy the succession further yet.

And to be perfectly honest, in this moment right now, she had one _truly_ pressing concern - whether or not she was up to a shower. A glance in the mirror as she passed by warned her that the various bruises, cuts, and contusions she’d suffered during the battle on Arcann’s flagship would hurt like hell beneath the pounding spray her aching muscles craved. Ultimately, however, it was the ripe scent of sweat and blood decided her against skipping. She could handle a little pain if it meant getting _clean_.

She programmed the shower, opting for a steady beating spray and a temperature just shy of boiling. Once it was ready, she stepped in, unable to suppress the hearty yelp that escaped as her injuries immediately began to burn and sting. Gritting her teeth, she planted her hands against the wall of the shower and let the spray pound over her. The pain was intense at first - but eventually it eased off, leaving her free to think as she waited for the water pooling at her feet to run more clear than reddish-grey.

Closing her eyes, she drew in a deep breath of the steamy air, letting it out slowly. Again. Again. Gradually, she felt muscles still tense from the battle unknot and relax, and she heaved out a long sigh. As the pain receded further, she found her thoughts drifting in a direction she wasn’t quite certain she was ready to go.

> Would you listen if I asked you to be careful? _Theron’s question from behind caught her unawares, and she swung around, gazing up into the spy’s intense hazel eyes. She could read the tension in his lean frame, the concern he felt for her._
> 
> Depends on how you ask. _She’d said it lightly, teasingly, in an effort to defuse the anxiety she could feel radiating from him. She’d expected he would make some off-the-cuff remark, maybe tease her back. She hadn’t expected the response he’d given._
> 
> _Despite the aides and agents rushing around as Odessen Base prepared for the attack, despite the soldiers streaming through on their way to defend the perimeter - despite Lana and Koth waiting impatiently for their Commander - Theron reached out, gathering her into his arms. Her scarlet eyes widened in shock, then warmed in delight a split second before he drew her up to him, taking her mouth with his in a hungry, pleading kiss. Time melted away; brief seconds stretching for an eternity._
> 
> _Abruptly he pulled back, the commotion about them crashing back in a cacophony of sound and motion._ How’s that? _His hands still held her close as he gazed down across the brief centimeters separating them._
> 
> _Reluctantly, she slipped from his embrace, her hand tracing along his arm, feather-light to the tips of his fingers._ I’ll be careful, _she promised, before tearing her eyes from his and turning away, drawing in a ragged breath once her back was turned to him and pressing her hand briefly just below her breastbone._
> 
> _Behind her, she heard Theron exhale._ You’re a terrible liar. _Beneath the teasing words, she could hear his anxiety, and she could feel his eyes following her as she joined Lana and Koth on their way to the Gravestone, hot and heavy on her back._

They’d done their fair share of flirting - and more - since his arrival on Odessen. The sexual tension between them that had started on Rishi - earlier, even, on Manaan - had only grown in the following years. Even five years apart, when she’d been encased in carbonite, hadn’t quite purged either of them of the yearning each felt for the other. But this - this was new. Theron had always been so circumspect, hesitant to show her any interest even in front of Lana, who was fully aware of the heat between them. The fact that he had kissed her in front of so many, without even a hesitation…

She exhaled, pressing a hand to her stomach as it fluttered from the memory, then opened her eyes and eyed the clear water rippling at her feet. Stiffly, she pushed herself up into a standing position and reached out for her washcloth, coating it liberally with soap. Gingerly, she scrubbed at her body, wincing as she irritated her wounds but soldiering through. Once more the water at her feet turned a reddish-grey as her ablutions reopened wounds, cleaning out the dust and grime embedded in her scores and scrapes. By the time the water ran clean again, she ached all over and exhaustion threatened to send her to her knees - but she was finally _clean_.

Shutting off the shower, she allowed the last of the water to course down her body, then reached out, taking up the sheet hanging nearby. She dragged it over her body, wrapping it loosely around herself and stepped out onto the soft rug laid out on the tile floor, then padded out of the refresher and into her bedroom.

And stopped in surprise.

He sat on the edge of her bed, his jacket tossed negligently across her vanity, his hair just a bit mussed and his skin just a bit translucent, reflecting his own exhaustion. He was chafing his hands in his lap, and as she stepped into the room, he looked up, hazel eyes darting over her before coming to rest on hers. “Theron,” she murmured, clutching the bathing sheet around her.

“Kali,” he murmured, pushing himself to his feet and crossing to meet her. His hands reached out, sliding along her arms as he pulled her into a gentle embrace. “You promised you’d be careful,” he murmured, his voice muffled against the top of her head. She could feel his muscles trembling as she wrapped her arms around his slim waist, feel how carefully he restrained himself from crushing her to himself.

Closing her eyes, she rested her cheek against his chest, hearing his heart thud unsteadily in his breast. “I tried,” she murmured. “I tried.”

She felt his hand come up, smoothing down her wet hair; felt his lips press against the crown of her head. “I know. I’m just glad you’re back. Safe.” He was so gentle, she felt her heart tremble in her breast, her breath catch in her throat - she wasn’t certain how to handle this affectionate Theron.

This _romantic_ Theron.

Her first instinct told her to escape - not just from now, but from always, from the relationship. The agent in her reminded her how dangerous it could be to get close, to let anyone get close. The Empire loved to make use of family and friends to keep its assets in line; she knew that first-hand. And even if they didn’t, there were plenty of enemies out there that would delight in using him to hurt her. To destroy her, because they could. Because it _would._

But... she wasn’t an Imperial Agent any longer, and besides, Theron Shan was no ordinary man. Once a member of the Republic’s Strategic Information Service, he had been a notable spy, earning several deathmarks from the Empire and the nickname of Technoplague for his hand in killing two notable members of the Dark Council and destroying one of the Empire’s most advanced - and deadly - starship prototypes. If anyone could handle themselves against any who might seek to use them to hurt her, it would be _him_.

Ignoring the panic fluttering in her stomach, Kali pressed into him, inhaling a lungful of his wild, spicy scent as she fisted her hands against the small of his back. She could feel his hand tremble as it stroked her hair, feel the air shudder in his lungs as he drew in a deep breath. “Kali,” he whispered again, and she felt his hands move to her jaws, cradling her face as he leaned back, gazing down into her eyes.

“Theron,” she murmured in reply, and her eyes fluttered closed as his mouth took hers - like his touch, his kiss was gentle, but there was a simmering passion behind his actions that took her by surprise. It wasn’t just the hunger she knew from those few times they had found time - and a private place - to share an intimate moment; there was something else, something powerful that she couldn’t - wouldn’t - read.

Not yet, anyway.

When he drew away, his breath was ragged, his fingers trembling against her face. “Come to bed, Kali,” he murmured. “Let me hold you tonight - let me know you’re okay.” His hands slid down her throat, found the tuck of her towel and tugged it free. Unaccountably shy, she crossed her arms over herself as the sheet fell to the ground in a puddle of cloth. He gripped her wrists gently, pulling her arms free, his hazel eyes flinching as they flew across her slim body, with all of its visible signs of the viciousness of her fight with Arcann. He winced, reaching down to place his hands gingerly on her shoulders. “Look what he did to you. I have some kolto - let’s patch you up first.”

Kal’istae just stared at Theron. “I don’t know what to do with this,” she finally admitted helplessly, hugging herself as he released her wrists and moved to his jacket to find his medkits.

The spy glanced at her curiously as he rummaged around through his pockets. “Do with what?”

“You,” Kali replied, staring helplessly at him as he pulled out several kits, setting them on the vanity. “You’re being… sweet.”

Slowly, Theron stacked the kits, then turned to face her, reaching out his hand and beckoning her to join him. She stared at his outstretched fingers, then moved closer, one slow step at a time, until she could reach out to take his hand. He drew her in, leaning down to give her gentle kiss on her mouth before he pushed her down to the vanity’s stool. “I’m not sure how to take that,” he finally replied as he opened up the first medkit and pulled out the kolto swabs. “I’ve been sweet before. I’m pretty sure, anyway.”

Kal’istae flinched slightly as he began to apply the kolto to her deepest wounds, then sighed as the numbness from the medicinal balm began to spread. “I mean, yes, of course,” and in her gaze was the memory of a shimmerose purchased from a street vendor on Nar Shaddaa, against her laughing protests. Even as she winced again at another swab, her body tingled in memory of the gift - and the later uses to which he put it. “But not… like this. _Sweet._ Caring. L - “ She couldn’t finish the word.

Theron’s attention was on her wounds, and he missed the glimmer of memory in her glowing scarlet eyes. The first medkit emptied, he opened a second, the tips of his ears growing red as she spoke. “Yeah, well,” he replied roughly, “I realized recently that you mean a great deal to me.” His gaze swept up, locked on hers. “A _great_ deal,” he repeated, before looking down again to his nursing. “So don’t be surprised that I’m a bit more caring, as I’ve come to care for you… a lot.” He hesitated, treating a score along her ribs that could only have come from Force lightning. “Does it… bother you?”

_Did it?_ Kal’istae didn’t answer immediately as she searched her feelings. Not that she needed to; she’d known how she felt about Theron for a long time now. But even now, with the spy’s words hovering between them, she knew better than to make her own declaration. “No,” she finally replied softly. “I.. care for you a great deal, too. I like knowing that you feel the same.”

He exhaled slowly as he began on the third medkit, swabbing the last of her injuries with the same gentle care as the first. “I’m… glad to hear that, Kali,” he said softly. He balled up the swabs and deposited them and the empty kits in the trash receptacle, tucking the rest of the kits back in his jacket. He took up a cloth and wiped his fingers meticulously clean, then turned back to her and reached out to touch her face. “Now, will you come to bed and let me hold you, Kal’istae?”

In answer, Kali reached up to take the hand on her cheek, twining her fingers with his. She brushed her lips over his knuckles, then leaned forward to press a light kiss to his lips. “Come to bed with me, Theron Shan,” she said softly when she pulled away, her scarlet eyes glowing brightly. “Hold me through the night so that I know I’m safe and sound.”

“How could I say no to that?” he breathed softly, helping her rise from the stool and guiding her across the short distance from vanity to bed. Placing his hands on her waist, he lifted her into the bed, taking just enough time to shuck his clothing before sliding in next to her.

Although she half-expected him to initiate love-making - expected and anticipated - he kept his touch gentle, light - more soothing than arousing. It didn’t take long for exhaustion to drag her under; as the light faded and her head spun its way into dreams, she felt him wrap his long, lean body protectively around her, felt his lips press against her temple.

And she could have sworn she heard him whisper, “I love you.”

But surely it was only just her dreams.


	2. Theron

Theron woke all at once, as was his habit, his eyes snapping open, muscles already tensed and ready for action. The room was quiet - only the soft whirr of the nearby terminal’s cooling fan and the quiet breathing of the woman tucked into his arms disturbed the silence. Unaccustomed to the weight of another body tangled with his, the spy cautiously disengaged himself from the Chiss. She made a soft sound of protest, then rolled away, bundling herself in the blanket as she curled up on her side.

Fighting the urge to wrap himself around her once more and fall back into sleep at her side, the spy drew in a deep breath and slid out from beneath the covers, the carpet soft beneath his feet as he stood. Sure-footed despite the darkness, he picked his way through the clothing scattered on the floor towards the refresher. Once the door slid shut behind him, he turned on the light and leaned against the sink counter, staring at the mirror set into the wall.

Several hours’ sleep had put some color back into his cheeks, his skin no longer quite so translucent as exhaustion had made it the night before. He rubbed a thoughtful hand over the shadow along his jaw - but he hadn’t thought to bring anything with him when he’d come to Kal’istae’s room last night. Hadn’t thought to stay. All he’d intended to do was ensure that she was in one piece and well - but that plan hadn’t survived the first sight of her coming out of the shower.

Frowning into the mirror, he rubbed his hand absently beneath his breastbone, feeling a twinge. He’d known for some time - a long time, really - that his attachment to Kal’istae was more than just physical. He hadn’t been willing to admit it to himself until the day she’d gone missing during the Spire assault mission. Lana has suggested she speak with Valkorion for his insight; despite misgivings, Kal’istae had agreed.

And had disappeared. For _hours._ Attempts to raise her on the comms had failed. Search parties sent out to the wilderness had reported no sign of her. It was as if she’d never existed.

But Theron knew she had. And as he paced relentlessly, ignoring Lana’s increasingly frustrated attempts to make him stop, he berated himself for not stopping her, or going with her, or… or anything but letting her go off.

Alone.

By the time she had returned, he’d stopped wearing a ditch in the floor, but only because Kaliyo and Jorgan had reached the Spire and he’d been needed to help coordinate the attack. In the back of his mind, however, he continued to fret, to worry…

To curse his timing in acknowledging to himself how he truly felt about her.

And then there she was, her snarky and snide and irritable self. Alive. Whole.

It had taken a surprising amount of self-control not to grab her when he saw her standing there, to drag her to him and demand to know what happened.

Instead, he’d taken Lana’s advice, returned to his room - to rest, ostensibly, but before he could so much as lay down, he’d found the overwhelming need to _do_ something - _say_ something - let her know what her absence had cost him.

It had taken too long to write the short note; he’d fumbled over the words, stumbled over the phrasing, and even after he’d hit send, he’d thought of a dozen ways to say it better. What was done was done; chances were she wouldn’t even see it until much later, with whatever scheme Hylo was planning to rope her into before she even had a chance to rest.

Imagine his surprise when she showed up on his doorstep not an hour later after receipt of his message. He’d just wanted - _needed_ \- her to know. Now in her eyes, in her lips, in her arms, he’d found the answer he’d never known he wanted - _needed_ \- until that moment.

Still, one crisis had fed into the next, with the two of them rarely finding a moment to breathe, much less talk. Those few times that they did manage to find mere moments alone had usually been spent locked in torrid embrace, the very real need for physical intimacy overcoming any inclination towards talk.

Theron blew out a breath, shaking his head at himself in the mirror. No, the truth was, he hadn’t wanted to admit to himself that she meant more to him than a bed partner, a friend with fantastic benefits. She always had. The day she’d gone missing in the forest, he’d been forced to examine his own feelings and found them terrifyingly deep, terrifyingly intimate. So he’d done what he’d been doing since Nar Shaddaa. Since Yavin.

Since Rishi.

He’d fled from his own emotions.

Then Arcann had attacked Odessen. And Kal’istae had been determined to face him once and for all.

Theron knew what had happened last time she’d faced off against Arcann. He’d run his fingers over the lapiz-hued scar just below her ribs, where the Emperor had pulled her to him and run her through with his lightsaber.

She should have been dead. Would have been dead but for the ghost in her mind. And yet here she was, fearlessly going up against the very man who had nearly killed her before.

How could he not tell her? How could he not _show_ her what she meant to him? So he’d swallowed all of those inhibitions instilled in his youth by his Jedi master, strengthened by his life as a Republic spy, and he’d shown her how important she was to him, in front of everyone.

And she’d come back. Not unscathed, but _whole._

Pushing off the counter, he moved to relieve himself. As he washed his hands, he eyed himself once more in the mirror, then shook his hands dry and shut off the light. The door cycled open and he stepped back into the bedroom.

In the absence of light, Kal’istae’s eyes glowed like red stars. She lay in bed still, covers draped over her slim body as she stared at him. He picked his way through his clothes and hers, never taking his eyes off of her as he stepped soundlessly towards her. She watched him approach, a quiet smile curving her lips. As he reached the side of the bed, she held out a hand to him.

He reached out, taking her hand, and answered her light tug by sliding beneath the covers. He tucked himself against her, releasing her hand to slide his arm about her waist, holding her close. Neither spoke a word; neither made a sound. As he leaned down to her, her eyes slowly closed, her breath warm on his lips a moment before he captured her mouth.

There was no urgency, no rush. One moment slid into two, fell into several as they kissed and stroked, touched and teased. Her laughter as his hands glided along her ribs was low and sensual, her gasps goaded him to explore further with fingers and lips, teeth and tongue. This was hardly the first time they’d shared such an intimate embrace; there was no centimeter of her with which he was not utterly familiar.

But as she arched beneath him, her skin warm and soft beneath his hands, he came to appreciate her in a new light - not just in passion, but in affection. In _love._

Even now, his mind stuttered over the truth. He knew he wouldn’t speak the word; but he could show her, and he did, time stretching on before them as they traded touches, learning each other all over again through eyes unblinded by reservations and hands unbound by inhibition. And in her touch, her kiss, her body, he felt the words she, too, would not speak, but allowed her actions to speak for her.

And as he fell into her, as she came screaming his name beneath him, the air shimmered with their unspoken declarations, made together as one.

Afterwards, they lay together, her slim body curved to fit his. She had one of his hands in both of hers and was playing with his fingers, her sapphire skin striking against his paleness. He propped himself up on one elbow, resting his temple against his fist and watched her as she fit her hand against his. “Having fun?” he teased her lightly, and she rolled her head back to peer at him, twining her fingers through his.

“What can I say? Your hands are your second best feature.” Her scarlet eyes glinted playfully as she pulled his fingers to her lips. 

He took the bait, smirking at her as he untangled his fingers from hers, sliding his hand down to cuff her wrist as he leaned over her, pinning her to the bed. “And what, pray tell, is my best feature?”

Glittering brightly, her limitless red eyes slid slowly, deliberately from his, following the length of his long, lean body before wandering back up. “Why,” she purred, “your eyes, of course.” Then she squealed as he dropped down, capturing her other wrist while he scraped his teeth along her throat before proceeding to prove that there were definitely other parts of him at least equal to his eyes - including his hands. By the time he was done, she was trembling, he was smug, and they were both immensely satisfied.

Flopping next to her, he curved his arm around her waist, cupping her hip in his hand as he dragged her to him and buried his face against the curve of her shoulder. “My Kali,” he murmured, voice muffled against her sapphire skin. “You will be the death of me yet, but what a way to go.”

Kal’istae drew in a ragged breath, her slim fingers gliding over his back, nails scraping lightly against his damp skin. “Pretty sure at this rate,” she replied, “we’ll end up going out together. With a bang,” she added, and he bit her shoulder before lifting his head to grin cheekily at her. She laughed at him, then wormed her way out of his embrace, sliding from the bed. As she picked her way across the room towards the refresher, he levered himself up on his elbow, watching her appreciatively.

As the door slid shut behind her, he rose from the bed, finding his shorts and dragging them on before toggling on the bedroom lights. He’d spent a bit of time here in the Commander’s room - but his mind had been occupied by other things, and he’d not had much of a chance to look around. It was a good-sized space and well-appointed, as benefited the Commander of the Alliance, but there was little that spoke of her. He prowled around, poking at the shelves, studying the terminal and datapads, but everything related to the Alliance, to the Commander.

Not to Kal’istae. Certainly not to _Kali._

He was frowning at a painting of Odessen in twilight when he heard the door slide open behind him. Turning, he watched as she paced towards him, sapphire skin and scarlet eyes aglow, midnight-blue hair tumbling around her fine-boned face. She padded up to him, reaching out to slide her fingers along his arms. “Why the frown?”

“Just wondering why there’s nothing of you here,” he murmured, taking her hands in his. “I’d think if anyone was able to get in here - in the heart of the base, past the army and HK, then it probably won’t matter if they find your mementos.”

Kali was silent for a moment, then shrugged. “When have I had time to collect anything? Everything I had before is gone, and I hit the ground running and haven’t stopped. Eventually I’ll have a chance to make new memories.”

Theron grimaced, irritated by his own thoughtlessness. “I wasn’t thinking. I’m sorry.” He slid his hands along her forearms, drawing her to him. “Tell you what, I’ll be happy to help you make some new memories.” At her quick smirk, he grinned. “Maybe even a few you can share with others.”

Kali linked her arms loosely around his waist, tilting her head back to study him with thoughtful red eyes. “I would like that,” she murmured. “Making memories with you. So much in my life I want to forget - but you… I want to remember you forever.”

They both felt the weight beneath her words, and she closed her eyes, burying her face against his throat, hiding away from her own declaration. Theron smoothed her hair with one hand, staring off into space as he considered his response carefully. “Believe me,” he said slowly, “when I tell you that that is one of my most heartfelt goals.” He felt her hands flex against the small of his back, fisting together as she held him tighter, and he pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

She pulled away first, breaking the tension with the movement. She went up on tiptoe to press a quick kiss to his mouth before moving away towards the wardrobe. “I hate to say it, but we should probably start digging in to work. Arcann may be out of the picture, but his sister may well be worse.”

Theron stood there a moment longer, watching her with a thoughtful frown, then moved to start gathering up his clothes. “Do we at least have time for a shower?” he asked, all innocence, and when she gave him a coy grin over her shoulder and moved towards the refresher, he was quick to drop his burden and follow.

* * *

Eventually, Kal’istae managed to herd Theron out of her room and back to his to shave and change. As the door slid shut behind him, she stared at it for a single blank moment, then sat heavily on the floor where she stood, one hand pressed beneath her breasts. “What the hell just happened?” she asked the empty air, scarlet eyes wide and startled.

Kali had long since come to terms with her decisions in life. The Empire had taught her how dangerous it was to love; they had threatened her family, her people, in order to gain her service in Imperial Intelligence. She’d sworn off relationships that day, and had managed to hold true to her decision, despite enormous temptation.

_Saganu. Vector._

But Theron… Taking a deep breath, Kali pushed herself up from the floor and scrubbed her hands over her face. It shouldn’t matter now - she was free of the Empire, free of the blackmail that had meant keeping everyone at arm’s length. But a lifetime of conditioning was hard to overcome - who knew this better than she?

She had desired Vector, physically, mentally - even emotionally, to some degree. The Joiner’s intelligence and patience - not to mention his physical attractiveness - had been a draw she’d been hard-pressed to resist. She’d taken him to her bed, but she’d managed, narrowly, to avoid taking him to her heart. Though she still ached to know where he was...

And Saganu. One. Damn. Kiss. That was all they had shared, so long ago in that icy cave on Hoth. And still, her lips tingled just remembering it. It shouldn’t be possible; they knew nothing of each other - to him, she was just another Imperial Agent, Chiss, yes, but nothing more than another warm body thrown at him by Imperial Intelligence, to use as he saw fit. And to her, he was another politician - savvy and intelligent, with a quick wit and fiery spirit - but still…

And yet, _tingles._

But Theron. Her heart ached just at the thought of his name; at the memories the single word evoked of his hazel eyes; his clever hands; his wicked, silver tongue. His frighteningly quick wit, his intelligence, his cunning. He was far from perfect, but even his imperfections - his tendency to jump first and look halfway to the ground; his dedication to the Jedi and the Republic; his stubbornness - they were all part and parcel of why she yearned for him, even as she feared what he could do to her.

By the time she was dressed and ready to face the day - and the duties no doubt piling up during her too-brief respite - she was no closer to having an answer. Decades of conditioning - by herself, by the Empire, and even by the Ascendancy - warned her to free herself of the thorns Theron’s affections had sunk into her.

But even as his claws bit deep, so too did hers, and she knew, in her heart, they were already too entangled to free themselves easily.

Perhaps, too entangled to free themselves at all. _And was that,_ whispered her subconscious - her stubborn, stubborn heart - as she turned out the lights and left her rooms, _such a bad thing at all?_


End file.
